As Old As
It’s early January
Early morning
My feet are cold on the bathroom tile
And that’s not my face
Staring at me from the mirror
An older face than the one I went to bed with
Puffy skin wrinkles I don’t remember that
One gray hair does not belong to me
I am not this old man
The song of youth still
Plays in my skull my heart my
Bones ache
Eyes blur
After long day working
Hard to keep them open and
I sometimes nod off
To the late news or Letterman just like
My dad did when I was a boy
And I would look at him and think
He’s old and I
Will never be
Am not as old
As that face staring
From the mirror on this
Cold January Morning
poem by Tom Foster
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Related quotes
The Bathroom Door
this early morning
you are depressed
you face the mirror
when she left
and you tell yourself
this cannot be true
you rehearsed yourself
again
to a line that you have
long wanted to say
years back
but just the same
you fall short of the courage
that all gentlemen
are said to still posses
you wash your face
with a handful of cold water
and slap your cheek
with that usual perfume
that makes her
love you more
you forget the lines
and promise yourself
to say it some other time
you give the mirror
your silly grin
and leave the bathroom
half-open.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The old mirror
I look in the mirror tainted and old
What do i see? ?
I see this woman staring back at me
She does'nt speak, she does'nt smile
She looks lost with a frown
I look in the mirror is it something from the 50's?
What do i see? ?
I see this man staring back at me
He does'nt wave he does'nt nod
He stands and stares with a glare
I look in the mirror the frame varnished dark
What do i see? ?
I see this girl staring back at me
She does'nt laugh or d a cheeky face
She turns away and begins to cry
I look in the mirror round and smoke stained
What do i see? ?
I see this boy staring back at me
Glasses and combed over hair
I wonder who they are
the people in the old mirror
~nikki addleton ~
poem by Nikki Addleton
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Face in the Mirror
She calls out to the face in the mirror
And runs her fingers down the varnished frame
Then she lights a cigarette and inhales deeply,
Leaving the lighter lit and staring into the flame.
The sun shines in through the half opened curtains
It lights up the room but not her face
The mirror still darkened as the face stands staring
Darkness wraps around her, concealing the empty space.
She never chased the dreams
Or ran through the morning light
She was never heard above the screams
She just hid in the darkness of the night,
With the face in the mirror.
Now the sun's gone down, she looks through the window
At the faces and places and motion below
The face in the mirror watches her shadow
As she sits on the window ledge waiting to go.
She sees cars drive by with their bright lights
She hears voices carrying away into the night
The face in the mirror incites her to jump
And she leaps and falls downwards flight after flight.
She never chased her dreams
Now she's chasing the ground
She wasn't heard above the screams
Now she doesn't make a sound,
And the face in the mirror smashes.
poem by Mark Hopwood
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Early Morning Cold Taxi
3:36, its cold, I know Im growing old,
With lifes best side on the downward slope,
Its in my own hands, I know Ill cope,
My girls with me and all my friends can see.
Here I am again,
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi.
Done it before, do it again,
Know from experience its not in vain,
Shes the best Ive had, I cannot see, what someone else can do to me.
Its a long way home but loves so warm, youll see.
Here I am again,
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi,
Each time I do it, I feel so down and out,
Early morning cold taxi,
though my mind thinks strange Ill keep on, no doubt.
3:36, its cold, I know Im growing old,
One day well be wed,
This I know for its what she said,
Then no more will my mind be uneasy.
Early morning cold taxi,
Each time I do it, I feel so down and out,
Early morning cold taxi,
though my mind thinks strange Ill keep on, no doubt.
3:36, its cold, I know Im growing old,
One day well be wed,
This I know for its what she said,
Then no more will my mind be uneasy.
Here I am again,
Early morning cold taxi.
Early morning cold taxi.
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Reflection
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Why do I look in you, at all,
For all I see is the same old me,
And not how I so want to be.
Mirror, mirror on the stairs,
Why do you show me many years,
A face with wrinkles everywhere,
Would anybody like my share.
Mirror, mirror near my bed,
In you I look with certain dread,
For creams and potions just don't work,
Behind them still the wrinkles lurk.
Mirror, mirror in the hall,
Seeing you makes me recall,
That I am now of senior age,
Well stuck into the wrinkles stage.
Mirror, mirror by the door,
How I hate you more and more,
I'm having to look the other way,
When my reflection's on display.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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With The Face
With the face goes a mirror
As with the mind a world.
Likeness tells the doubting eye
That strangeness is not strange.
At an early hour and knowledge
Identity not yet familiar
Looks back upon itself from later,
And seems itself.
To-day seems now.
With reality-to-be goes time.
With the mind goes a world.
Wit the heart goes a weather.
With the face goes a mirror
As with the body a fear.
Young self goes staring to the wall
Where dumb futurity speaks calm,
And between then and then
Forebeing grows of age.
The mirror mixes with the eye.
Soon will it be the very eye.
Soon will the eye that was
The very mirror be.
Death, the final image, will shine
Transparently not otherwise
Than as the dark sun described
With such faint brightnesses.
poem by Laura Riding
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There's a girl in the mirror!
There's a girl in the mirror
Staring back at me
I don't even know who she is
But by heck! She's ugly
There's a girl in the mirror
Standing very still
She's pale and she looks afraid
I think she might be ill
There's a girl in the mirror
She'd never win a prize
She looks very depressed
You can tell it by her eyes
There's a girl in the mirror
Looks like she needs a friend
I don't have many myself
But I guesse my self I can lend
To the girl in the mirror
I step towards to comfort her
I see her coming closer
But now she's becoming a bit of a blur
Now the girl in the mirror
Has left me on my own
Here I stand in a dark, cold room
Feeling very alone
poem by Becky Ginn
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Morning Reflections
One early morning
I looked into the mirror
And remember the day
My reflection told me
Now don't run away!
Those wrinkles resemble
Years spend in the sun
And if you remember
Admit they were fun
The lines on the forehead
So long and so deep
You got from getting to little sleep
The smile is still the same
A little more weight is not a shame
The feet get quickly tired
But walking on the road still gets me wired
The long hair that once blew in the breeze
Has been shortened and ceased
Life still trills me and happiness fills me
To wake and hear a robin sing
Not knowing what the day will bring
So mirror say what you will
I don't consider myself over the hill.
poem by Ingeborg von Finsterwalde
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Time Passes, Faces Change, The Heart Remains The Same
The face I see
In the looking glass
Is not the face I see
In my heart.
The woman I see
In the mirror now
Is not the girl I see
In my heart.
The face I see
In the looking glass
Is lined with the cares
Of the world,
The hair is silver,
The eyes dimmed,
The face is aged,
And the mouth is thin.....
But the face I see
In heart and memory
Is as radiant, as youthful,
As the day I met you.
Scarlett Treat
January 25,2008
poem by Scarlett Treat
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Mirror To Mirror
Written by gerry beckley, 1994
Found on hourglass.
I havent seen forever
Dont even know her name
I call on dreams and other schemes
To try and win that game
Now that its over, darling
Look into my eyes
Seein your own reflection
Much to your surprise
Were seein mirror to mirror
Face to face
We look but we cannot see
Mirror to mirror
Seems to trace
What happened to you and me
And though we tried in earnest
The distant silence yells
We call on wings and other things
To try and break that spell
Now that its over, darling
Truth in the common cause
We stare at our own indifference
By seeing the others flaws
Were seein mirror to mirror
Face to face
We look but we cannot see
Mirror to mirror
Seems to trace
What happened to you and me
Oh, mirror to mirror, mirror to mirror
Mirror to mirror, whats come over me
As we look inside, theres nowhere to turn
Theres nowhere to hide
Now that its over, darling
Look into my eyes
Seein your own reflection
Much to your surprise
Were seein mirror to mirror
Face to face
We look but we cannot see
Mirror to mirror
Seems to trace
What happened to you and me
Oh, mirror to mirror, mirror to mirror
Mirror to mirror, whats come over me
Mirror to mirror, mirror to mirror
Mirror to mirror, whats come over me
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early In The Morning
Early in the morning and I cant get right
Had a little date with my baby last night
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Now its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to all the places where we used to go
Went to your house but you dont live there no more
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to your friends house but she was out
Knock on your fathers door and he began to shout get out there boy
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to doogie chain to get something to eat
Waiter looked at me and said you sure look beat
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My heart is a mirror
Your face is like my mirror, I can see it all
Your face is like a mirror, a mirror on my heart’s wall
You smile and so does my heart
Frown on your face and my smile breaks apart
The glow on your face has its reflection in my heart
Tear in your eyes and my sorrows start
The love on your face is felt by me
Your success is my ecstasy
If you feel the pain
The sorrow of my heart, I can’t explain
If you go away
My heart will no longer stay
Your face is like my mirror, I can see it all
You have my heart and so you control…
poem by Amita Singh
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Face of God
Someone asked; God what if we were to meet face to face?
What face would I see?
Would your eyes be slanted and blue?
Would you have a jewel in the middle of your forehead?
Would your noise be pointed or would it be flat?
Would your lips be thin or would they be full?
God what face would I see?
God answers with these words.
If we were to meet face to face here is what you would see.
Pick up a mirror and the face staring back at you is not only you it is also me.
A random morning~not a poem
How many people like what they see in a mirror? How many times do we strike a pose there trying to look better? The best changes are brought by a straight posture and a smile. See? Look how different you are. All the things you hate at yourself are not so hideous as before, now you learn to live with your big nose those new wrinkles or freckles or rebellious hair or wide cheeks or whatever else is. A light, it comes from the inside. Close your eyes, smiling. Let Kindness grow, to cover all of your skin. All of you. Think of a rose. It has a lot of beauty but also thorns. Try not to sting with your thorns but enchant with the beauty of your smile. After you've done that in the mirror, and within yourself, you are ready to face your day. Good Morning! Chin up, keep your smile, feel free to face the world trying to have a happy day! No matter what, no matter how the day ends the least, this morning, I have tried, right?
April,2012 Elena
poem by Elena Sandu
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Showing The True Color
when i wake up this early morning
she was not already beside me.
i do not want to rise and fold the blanket
and go somewhere else.
or read the papers, or sip coffee, there is
this laziness that infects my bones, a disease
of meaning, another slow day, the routine is
eating me, and i behave
in a manner that i am like a lame duck being
aimed at by all the bystanders
i am opening my eyes, and the ceiling is off
white, it has been that way ever since i got married,
why did i leave it that way? i have the money to have
it painted pure white, like a very clean slate where
i can write what i must mean, but i didn't, i let things
that way they are from the beginning, and perhaps
they will still be at the end. This is what i do next,
always always i do this: i rise from my bed, go to my
circular mirror and look at my face, they also do it,
and then i touch my cheeks and chin, feeling the roughness
of the beard, how they have grown long and so untidy,
the razor is ready, and the soap and water, but this time
i will do what i cannot do the other days of my life,
i will not trim the unruly ones, i will not wash my face,
i may slap myself, and then i give the mirror the grin
of the man that is used to all these doubts and shame.
i will tell it, i am now myself.And then i will the bathroom
another tune for my whistle, nobody, nobody but me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In the White
In the white, early morning
I hang my face
over her head
and kiss the flesh above her brow.
I hang my neck, a bow in the air
and kiss the tiny, tickling hairs above her brow.
In the white light of morning
I hang myself over her
and kiss the flesh of her skull
Her white skull
sleeps in the early morning as I hang myself
to kiss her.
I hang myself to kiss her
as she sleeps in the white, early morning.
She does not wake to my touch.
I hang myself above her
on the white bow
of early morning.
She does not wake to my hanging.
The window is cracked and taped.
The outside air is cold, forceful.
I bend myself
above her sleeping body
to kiss her, gently on the brow.
To kiss her gently on the brow
I hang myself.
poem by Chavisa Woods
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In January In Duhallow
The cold winds of January from the north east does blow
And the weather is cold quite cold enough for to snow
And the hungry birds silent on the naked hedgerow
In the flat and rushy fields where the Blackwater flow.
January in Duhallow from here far away
In the chill of the morning the frost bound fields gray
In the farmyard sheds cattle bellow for silage or hay
Where the sun seldom shines on a January day.
The distinctive harsh caws of the silver backed crow
In the Season where grass does refuse for to grow
And few cars on the roadway that leads to the town
Near where the river flows bank high in flood waters of brown.
In January in Duhallow the old fields looking bare
With the harsh chill of Winter in the cold Morning air
And at least eight long weeks till the first breath of Spring
When Nature will bloom and her wild birds will sing.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Reflections In The Mirror
When you look in the mirror
Do you see only yourself?
Could the reflection be your soul,
Staring yoack in the face?
If there is a crack in the mirror,
Is that not a reflection of you?
The mirror reveals merely what your eyes
Want us to see
But could not a clearer reflection
Mirror infinity?
poem by Lee Linc Stallings
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See Me In The Mirror
See me in the mirror if you want to
See me in the mirror if you really want to
Maybe not too clear, but the face you'll see is mine
Do you feel my eyes burning through you
Do you feel the burn when my eyes see through you
Do you see my eyes when they burn into your mind
I can feel the teardrops hit the ground where I'm layed
I can feel you breathing while I sleep through the day
See you in a vision in the dark with no light?
Your soul may go to heaven, but your heart's mine tonight
Do you feel my skin when you touch me
Do you feel my skin when you reach and touch me
Cold and blue and thin but it's still somehow alive
And you can feel my blood running through you
You can feel the rush of my blood run through you
You can feel the gush when my blood runs up your spine
And I can feel the teardrops hit the ground where I'm layed
I can feel you breathing while I sleep through the day
See you in a vision in the dark with no light?
Your soul may go to heaven, but your heart's mine tonight
See me in your mirror if you want to
See me in the mirror if you really want to
Maybe not too clear, but the face you'll see is mine
See me in the mirror, mirror, mirror
See me in the mirror, mirror
See me in the mirror, mirror
See me in the mirror, mirror
See me in the mirror, mirror, mirror
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Metaphor Of The Mirror And The Light
there is this face
in the mirror and it is talking to the body
to remind its skin
that it is real,
lights are turned off
and the face only hears a voice
from its mouth
it is assured still that it is a face
of someone it knew
so well
and will not deny it
the voice faded in darkness
and the face
hears nothing
and sees nothing about
its skin
and eyes
it is dark
and there is no voice anymore
except the
silence
and the loneliness that is about
to make a scream
to the mirror
that had long shut itself
because there is no light
the face demands a voice
the mirror begs for light
for the voice is a security
that life exists
and the light is the only
anchor of the mirror
when it becomes a boat
in the sea
of emptiness
but there is no light
and there is no voice
the mirror breaks the silence
the face becomes the wind
there is no boat
much less an anchor
there is only a word written
on paper
left on the floor
and it is spoken for no
one....
poem by Sebastian Soberania
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